Take Me in Even to Your Darkest Hour

It's a strange and utterly unsettling thing to continually open the door into a room of your darkest thoughts to crowds of strangers.  

Truth is, I never thought I'd ever be able to revisit those thoughts; particularly with the best voice conviction I could cobble up. As I sat there in the room of my last co-creation session, awaiting to have my voice recorded as the audio tapes that will resound in the ears of all the visitors who went through the ED immersive installation at IMS2, I was downright nervous. 

I had just spent the past day or two trying to stand on my feet again. It was not too long ago did those very self-condemnations I enunciated in the clips blitz my eardrums in the relentless waves that the years of struggle have accustomed me to. I had barely gathered enough confidence within myself but I knew recovery was far beyond saying yes to the meal before me. Recovery was about trying to reclaim a life I knew I deserved beyond the fear of the unknown. I had to challenge myself to every apprehension and every mocking voice that demolished my perceived right to share my story. "I should just shut up. I am hogging up so much airtime and space, darned attention-seeker. What makes you think that you're good enough to present a testimony?" I was horribly shaken by self doubt and self hatred; who was I to speak on behalf of the fighters/survivor who deserve this opportunity more?! I am a fraud, hypocrite and every adjective anonymous people have ingrained in me. Right up to the opening night, as I heard my own full recording, the papa bear of all cringes handicapped me and I couldn't help but spin my own head in a whirl of punishing lines - "oh god, this is awful. You are awful. You sound like shit and you should have done a better job. wth stupid candice please just disappear. Darn you for thinking that you had a right to share your pathetic story. It should have been someone else worthy. Not you." At that moment, I felt this surge of regret and shame - I should have just remained silent during the comm meeting when the immersive team was discussing their conundrum. I'm sure they would have had such a better idea had I just shut my trap. Why did you have to voice your stupid ideas so selfishly. No one cares about your lame story of so-called emergence bitch. I guess it was hard from the beginning of that day. My dad had just pummelled me with depreciating comments about my heart of serving in this project by highlighting my flaws and unpreparedness for life. I felt that all this hype I had for the exhibition was just negligible and contrary to the theme, I had zero strengths, as my dad often had me believe. I was going in an imposter of empowerment but I pushed myself to go even when I wanted to back out of it altogether, with this slither of hope that my IMS family would make the pain go away. However, I had left the opening night of IMS2 with same heaviness and shattered self-belief, disappointed by my backfired contribution and downright self-centredness. But a series of magical events unfolded over the next few days, which made months of apprehension and self-condemnation worth every tear. A therapist had once asked me to choose one simple quote that I could replay in my mind whenever things were spinning out of control. I remember telling her that it was "it's always darkest before the dawn", and being blessed beyond measure when she took the effort to remember that and write me a card with that same quote a few weeks later when I was unable to join the girls down at program. This quote soon became the epitome of deliverance over the next three days: these days were the dawns I craved so so badly after this period of landscape of blackness. It is only upon hindsight that I find myself immensely grateful for the darkest of nights because it allowed me to appreciate the lighthouses in the sky stud what I thought was my hopeless horizon.  

As opened the doors of the ED immersive room and sheepishly informed the visitors that this will be revolving around a narrative of (a girl) who has struggled with an eating disorder. (internally: hahah btw you're speaking to that 'a girl' right now) but it was the most humbling and yet strange sensation to usher individuals into a fraction of your past darkness, albeit it being dulled down and seriously haha censored. It was humbling in the sense that I saw how serious they were about understanding each aspect of the 6 stations. They didn't rush out of there but tried their best to concentrate and literally immerse themselves in the shoes of that "a girl" I briefed them on moments before. It really touched me to see how so many strangers were taking the time to empathise.

And on the day that, Mr Baey Yam Keng, MP of Tampines North GRC, came by on a tight schedule, I was xiao touched when the team unanimously agreed that he should experience the ed immersive over the Psychosis immersive due to time constraints. It made me feel that hey, perhaps my contribution of the narrative and props wasn't as negligent as I assumed they were on the opening night. It was seriously ahhh validating when my friend told me that he commented that the person on the tapes (he didn't know it was me) had great articulation. I mean just 2 days ago, I was bashing myself over how I had sabotaged the amazing effort by the immersive team by my poor quality recordings. (Inner London Tipton 'yay me!' moment) It was the most exciting yet scary feeling when each of my amazing friends pressed play, as they moved from station to station, plugged in with the earphones of an MP3, containing my narrated voice. I remember each of them as they flailed around, signalling me over (as I hid in corner), mouthing: "is this you??"

Across the few days, there were numerous words of encouragements and assurances from my friends, regardless of whether they've suffered through the same demons (of whom I was even more afraid of for misrepresenting ED struggles). Every response was so sincere and genuinely emotional that collectively, it realigned my purpose and worth in this mission of mental health advocacy I hold closest to my heart. It seriously meant so much to receive hugs and see tears from friends who have seen me emerge from the worst of times. It made it all worth it to hear each of them say how they are proud of me and how far I've come, especially since the days of darkness prior to this exhibition have convinced me otherwise. The fight and tears had been worth it after all. 

And even the girls who I've not really gotten close to, surprised me with their overwhelming affirmations: 

"The ED interactive exhibition really brought me to tears. Thanks for being so brave and facing your fears to share this with the public so they can understand our struggles better...My boyfriend is always trying to understand my condition better and I think after going there with me, he did and at least got a look of what it's like inside our minds. I struggle with trying to put what I'm experiencing into words and trying to explain to friends/family why I do what I do sometimes and I thought that exhibition summed it up perfectly." Another looked me squarely in the eye and told me that she really admires how I was brave enough to put myself out there for society to see (and hear). It's not easy at all and for me to do that, after all I've been through, is really really amazing. The fight and tears had been worth it after all. 

My first ever art therapist had received word of mouth and surprised me at the exhibition with her whole family. And as I saw her plugged in and gravitating from each milestone of my relapse and recovery phases, I was moved beyond words as she excitedly asked me for my contact so she could work with me to inspire the clients who she's currently working with. She later texted me: "Hi Candice, just want to say how proud I am of you! Seeing your wonderful artworks speaking powerfully of your strength & resilience, while helping & inspiring others to health, was such an encouragement for me! Keep shining, my dear! 🌠💕" The fight and tears had been worth it after all. 

Above all, it shook me to my core when my doctor carried her baby daughter in her arms, going through this audio-visual immersive of my ED journey. She later emailed me: I spoke to the team today about what you guys have done - and we were wondering if you would be able (and keen) to do something similar for ED Awareness week? It's usually the last week in Feb - not sure how that would work for you. But if you are willing to (and able to spare the time) - we would love to work with you on this for Awareness week in 2018." The fight and tears had been worth it after all. However, it was not all sunshine and rainbows as I rode off into this dawn that I had wished would be my permanence. I slipped just three days after the exhibition had ended. I had lost the fire of loving life again (so easily) just because the event that brought me faith and hope had come to an end. I was back to rummaging through my depression playlist and basking in the same old multifandom triggering compilations of eating disordered patients and celebrities. I recall spending hours just subjecting myself to this negativity to motivate myself to starve as self-punishment. After half a day, I just couldn't do it anymore; as hard as I try to revert back to ED, I can't will myself to self-destruct anymore. Yes, I still feel that immense guilt of saying goodbye to the authoritative ED, who is clinging onto me just so it can kill the true me...but for all those dark moments, I find myself rewinding back on the recorded tapes. With each replay, I am almost forcing myself to remember the person of victory I had grown to be when I braved every breakdown and relapse throughout my 20 years so far. I recalled how I had told each visitor at our exhibit that "our team hopes to remind the mental health community and general public that the strength that we harbour beneath the masks is something that can only be gained as strength is never lost." 

To the angel behind me, thank you x I am not always a survivor but I am surviving, and that's still pretty darn brave. "I really really can't utter into words how proud I am of you. Genuinely Candice, your sparkles ignite and I am waiting for this very day to see them. I know that this is not the full stop, this is not the be all end all stop of recovery. I know it's a conscious decision made every single minute every single moment, despite what the voices tell you. I am honestly so proud of you because I know you have climbed up from the darkest depths of your shadows, the darkest valleys of the route to your house from school, the darkest echoes that you hear from the voices inside your head feeding lies and deceiving you, the darkest complexion due to the lack of sleep and energy and even then, you still shone bright. But right now, you are a fighter. Every step, every day is an effort made consciously and purportedly for the ultimate aim of recovery because like what the audio says, the worst days in recovery is still better than the best days in relapse. You are worth every ounce of self love, empathy and recognition of the effort contributed and all the awareness that you have raised. :-) god sees it and I am sure he's pleased with his creation. Even without all these accomplishments or achievements, you are still his beloved Daughter that he has soulfully created with every ounce and every inch measured right to perfection :-)" 

And indeed as I had the same recordings that I once cringed over on opening night, I am immensely grateful for the chance to have a version of myself that I can always look towards striving to become again each time I fall. So thank you to everyone in the immersive team who believed in me and gave me an opportunity to remember that I am not as broken as I think I am. 

Especially!!! Fits and Nevin - I am forever grateful for you guys xx 

I refuse to let digits define me anymore 

Coz this is what surviving looks like my dear.